Global Safari

Arrival in Anchorage

2010-07-27T00:50:00.000-07:00

Shortly before midnight in Anchorage. The sun did not set until about an hour ago, and it is actually almost dark here. On the flight up from Denver I saw some amazing mountains and glaciers in the Alaska panhandle region. I will post photos of them tomorrow.

We were met by Susan and Tools at the airport, and am now about to turn in at the end of this long day. I believe Susan is taking a bath. They don't visit Anchorage that often--it's a 5-hour drive from their cabin--and in the hour or so that we talked after our arrival she pointed out the highlights of the city: lots of hot water and good shower pressure. The things I have been taking for granted!

Alaska here we come!

2010-07-26T15:32:00.000-07:00

So, after a long silence, here I am again about to start another trip. This will be my first time to see the state of Alaska.

It will be a family affair. My sister Susan and her husband Tools are there already, and have been since June. They have a cabin that Tools constructed some years back near the town of Healy.

Dad is also there. As I write he is on his way northward from Anchorage to his destination, Kantishna, a small collection of buildings literally "at the end of the road" deep inside Denali National Park. This will be his fifth season as a pilot for Kantishna Air Taxi. More on that later.

But I am not yet there. My mom and I are flying up together. We left from Kansas City airport this afternoon, and are now in the middle of a layover at Denver. From here will will fly on up to Anchorage, where Susan and Tools are supposed to meet us on our arrival at about 10PM this evening Alaska time, which is one hour behind Pacific Time.

Susan has the trip all planned out, so I got to take it easy in that department this time. I don't have a lot of knowledge of what to expect, so I'm sure it will open my eyes to many new things, places and people. Just what I love!

Waiting for the curtain to rise on in-flight entertainment.

End of the Road

2007-06-07T09:03:00.000-07:00

After 3,000 miles and 48 postings, the narrative of this journey has come to an end. From here I cross back over the Sierras, smack into the mainstream of California. Within a day I will be back in Oakland.

The American Southwest is a fascinating and rewarding place to visit. You will want to linger...but bring plenty of water.

If you would like to know when Global Safari is updated, just send me an email and I'll keep you in the loop. I continue to welcome your comments and encourage you sign my guestbook. I do not anticipate making any posts, however, until my next trip late this summer. So this blog will temporarily remain--like Bodie, California--in a state of "arrested decay." Thanks for joining me!

Bodie, California

2007-06-06T10:06:00.000-07:00

Gold was discovered here in 1859, but Bodie's boomtown days were between 1877 and 1881, when over 30 mines were in operation. By 1879 about 10,000 people were living here and there were over 2,000 buildings. The mines here produced gold valued at over $100 million.

The town's reputation for wickedness was second to none; its 65 saloons were notorious. One preacher summed up the town as a "sea of sin, lashed by the tempests of lust and passion." Violence was commonplace, and killings were sometimes almost daily events. "There is some irrestible power," commented the Bodie Standard, "that impels us to cut and shoot each other to pieces." The notorious "bad man from Bodie" became a legend throughout the West. One little girl, whose family was taking her to the infamous and remote town, wrote in her diary: "Goodbye God, I'm going to Bodie."

Bodie lingered on through good times and bad. But in 1932 a fire destroyed 90% of the town, an event which sealed the town's doom. What remains is considered the best all-round ghost town in the West. Its dozens of deep-grained, russet-and-gold wooden buildings are discreetly maintained in a condition of "arrested decay" while weeds grow freely around the many scattered artifacts.

Like the town itself, I will now be silent and let the photos speak for themselves...

Panic at Panum Crater

2007-05-25T12:03:00.000-07:00

If I learned one lesson from this trip, it is this:
ON ANY FUTURE CAR TRIP, CARRY A SPARE KEY!

We had already had one lost-key situation in Kayenta, Arizona.
I didn't consider that one to be my fault, so I didn't take the lesson to heart.

Fool!

I had never lost a car key in my entire life. No matter: I had been warned.
Now it was time to pay the price.

Here is how the situation unfolded...

Panum Crater: my date with disaster
N37.93149 W119.04663
(12:30): I decide to visit the Panum Crater near Mono Lake. Only 650 years old, this is the youngest mountain in the youngest mountain range in America, the Mono Craters. Volcanic eruptions began here about 40,000 years ago, and geologists believe they are by no means finished. These are mountains in the very earliest stage of formation.

When Panum erupted (c. 1325-1365 AD), it spewed forth lava with a very high concentration of silica (about 76% quartz), making it very thick and glassy. This lava cooled into several different rock forms: the abrasive stone pumice, and its very-different-looking but chemically identical twin, obsidian.

Obsidian is what attracted me to this place. This is a beautiful black, glassy rock that I have seen in large quantities in only one other place on my--remember, it's "piecemeal"--Global Safari, at Hell's Gate National Park in Kenya.

(12:52): I follow the dirt trail as far as it will take me, and park the car near the bottom of Panum's rim. From there a gently-sloping trail, about six feet wide, leads upward. The trail is "paved" with small pieces of pumice, so it feels like I'm walking on someone's giant landscaping project.

(12:59): I reach the rim, and turn left onto a trail that leads to the center of the crater, what's called the "plug". The rim formed about 1,200 years ago from pumice debris falling back to earth, and the plug (or "dome") dates from the most recent eruption. "NO ROCK COLLECTING," reads a sign along the trail:

On the rim of the crater

Looking from the rim to the dome of the crater, about 500 feet away

(1:07): Obsidian becomes more abundant the closer I get to the center plug. At first I see it just in small pieces along the trail, then larger rocks, and finally...huge outcrops, taller than a man. The rock is dark, glossy, smooth, sharp and beautiful. No wonder Native Americans used this material for spear points and arrowheads. It is apparently preferred by some surgeons for scalpels even today.

(1:16): Strolling along the path, I see one outcrop after another. Up ahead, off the trail, I notice a couple with a dog that seem to be, yes I think so...collecting rocks. I begin to reason with myself. "Surely," I conclude, "a small sliver or two doesn't harm anything."

(1:20): Having seen what I came to see, I turn and retrace my steps along the pumice path. It is about a third of a mile back to the car. As I come within sight of it, I reach into my pocket...and... (you know what's coming, don't you?)

THE KEY IS MISSING!!

I don't worry at first, because I never seem to place it in the same pocket anyway. So I go through them all. Nothing! Then I empty each pocket in turn, placing the contents on the hood of the RAV4. Still nothing.

(1:25): I finally have to face the awful truth: the car key is somewhere between me and the center of the crater, more than a quarter of a mile away. My water and food are inside the vehicle. I'm miles from any town. Even if I do find it, it will take hours and I'll be very hungry and thirsty. The trail is uneven and dark: the same color as the plastic end of the key itself. But there is nothing I can do except retrace my steps, keeping my eyes on the ground.

"Oh, why? why?" My mind reels in despair. "Why did I ever think I could pick up those rocks? I'm being punished by God!"

(1:27): I start to return up the path, my eyes scanning the ground at every step. The place it is most likely to be, I decide, is near the plug, because that is where the terrain was rougher, where I had stepped off the trail to inspect some rock. As I hurry up towards the rim I pass a young couple that is just arriving here. "I've lost my car key, so if you see one please yell out," I say to them in desperation.

(1:30): I get to the crater rim, less than half the distance I have to cover. I've seen nothing at all yet. I pick up my pace somewhat, in a hurry to get back to the vicinity of the plug. I'm several hundred feet ahead of that couple I passed a few minutes ago, when I hear something... a shout, coming from their direction. It is just a single word...but the most beautiful word I could ever hope to hear:

"TOYOTA?"

By this magnificent stroke of sheer luck, disaster was averted. The husband had seen the key sticking partly out of the pumice rocks on the trail; I had already passed it without seeing a thing.

As close calls go, this one ranks right up there with the time I was locked underground inside the Serapeum of Saqqara. But that's another story...

Am I glad to be leaving here!

Note to readers: With this post, there will be a pause until late next week as I travel back to New York. But please check back then, because there is still more to come! I hope you have a great Memorial Day holiday.

Next: "Goodbye, God. I'm going to Bodie."

Mono Lake, California

2007-05-23T16:10:00.000-07:00

Have you ever visited someone's house, only to find no answer when you knocked on the front door? Of course you have. Did you go one step further, perhaps going around back to see if anyone was there? And, instead of finding the person you were hoping to meet, you were surprised to find...a yard full of heaps of trash and rusting junk!!

Wouldn't your opinion of that person change somewhat?

Mono Lake
N38.004 W119.011
Well, replace "someone" with the City of Los Angeles, and the "backyard" with Mono Lake. I don't think I can visit that city again without thinking about how it has trashed the ecosystem of Mono Lake, its "backyard" 300 miles away. Mono Lake is nearly 3 million years old. But it has been brought close to the brink of collapse in less than the span of one human life.

Mono Lake is one of the most productive lakes in the West, teeming with plants and animals that have adapted to its salty, alkaline waters. This abundant aquatic life makes it one of the most important wetlands in the entire western hemisphere for migrating and nesting birds.

60,000 California gulls--80% of the state's population--return to Mono Lake every spring and summer to nest and raise their young. Historically, over a million migratory birds, representing 100 different species, used Mono Lake as a stopover point on travels as far-flung as the Arctic and Patagonia.

Mono Lake has a simple food chain. Bacteria provide nutrients for algae, which are eaten by alkali flies and a unique species of brine shrimp that evolved over thousands of years to thrive in the lake's harsh chemistry. The shrimp hatch by the trillions here each year, providing food for millions of birds.

In 1941 the City of Los Angeles extended its aqueduct system into the Mono Basin, diverting water from four of the six mountain streams that feed Mono Lake. As a result, the lake lost more to evaporation than it gained from inflow. Over the next 40 years the lake lost half its volume, doubled in salinity, the surface dropped nearly 50 vertical feet. Miles of newly-exposed lakebottom created dust storms in the windy basin region. The fragile lake ecosystem was given a powerful blow; local wildlife and fisheries, migratory birds and humans all suffered.

A simple food chain is a vulnerable one. As salinity increases, the shrimp and alkali flies become less and less productive. If the environment changes too much or too quickly, the brine shrimp could become extinct. Were that to happen, huge flocks of birds could starve.

As lake levels declined, much wetlands habitat was lost. Without that habitat, the number of migratory birds stopping here has declined greatly.

Tufa towers exposed by the receding surface of the lake.
When freshwater springs rich in calcium bubble up through carbonate-rich lake water, a reaction follows, creating vertical towers of calcium-carbonate deposits called "tufa".
In 1978 a coalition of citizens' groups challenged the legality of the water diversion. Five years later, the California State Supreme Court ruled that there had been a violation of the doctrine of Public Trust, whereby "human and environmental uses of Mono Lake...deserve to be taken into account." In 1990 the court ordered the LA Department of Water and Power to abide by Fish and Game Code laws to protect fisheries in the creeks below the diversion points, and the State Water Resources Control Board began work on a management plan for Mono Lake.

A lake was here, once.
N37.94180 W119.02657
In 1994 the Board decided that the lake must be raised to an elevation of 6,392 feet above sea level, which could take 20 years. This is 19 feet higher than the lake's level in 1994, but still 25 feet below its level when the diversions began in 1941. The next step is to develop and implement a restoration plan for the Basin's streams and wetlands.

Friday: Panic at Panum Crater

California's Defensive Line

2007-05-17T19:47:00.000-07:00

The Sierra Nevada mountains form an unbroken 400-mile-long wall running north to south in eastern California, between the Central Valley to the west and the Basin and Range physiographic province (including the Mojave Desert) to the east.

If you were to approach the Sierra from their western foothills they appear tame, rising gradually over many miles of wooded and well-watered terrain. But if you approach from the east--as I did--be prepared for a shock...the mountains rise abruptly from the valley floor, ascending quickly to heights unattained anywhere else in the contiguous United States. Here on the eastern side, the tameness of the western slope is totally absent. The Sierra Nevada mean business.

I first met the Sierras up close at the town of Lone Pine (N36.604 W118.062). Just west of here Mount Whitney rises 2 miles above the valley floor. At 14,505ft (4,421m) in elevation, this is the highest peak in the Lower 48. Interestingly, it is just 76 miles from Badwater Basin (see my previous post), the lowest point in North America.

Mount Whitney
N36.57959 W118.29250
For the next 185 miles I will be following US Highway 395, running parallel to the eastern slope of the mountains. Along the way there are several signs indicating the passes which lead over to the western side of the Sierras. But all of these are still closed for the winter. The mountains are impenetrable for nearly 200 miles.

The Sierra Nevada at dusk, near Lone Pine, California

The map tells me that I am in the Owens River Valley. Odd, but as I write this post several weeks after being there, I do not once recall seeing the Owens River. Maybe this is because I was driving in the dark evening hours, or... perhaps I arrived a century too late?

The Owens River's natural terminus is Owens Lake, a few miles south of Lone Pine. In existence since the Ice Age, for millenia it was a haven for migratory birds. In historical times it was 10 miles wide, 15 miles long, 30 feet deep. A steamship crossed it. I have to use the past tense, though, because Owens Lake is no more: since 1924 it has been reduced to a dry salt flat which creates noxious alkali dust storms.

The agent of its demise was an aqueduct, completed in 1913, which diverted the Owens River's flow to the city of Los Angeles 250 miles away. The diversion of the river and the disappearance of Owens Lake remain highly controversial, at the heart of the California Water Wars and the subject of a book (which I am currently reading), Cadillac Desert by Marc Reisner.

Further north, not far from the town of Mammoth Lakes is Lake Crowley, a resevoir built in 1941 by the City of Los Angeles. It is named for Father John J. Crowley, a Catholic priest who devoted himself to improving the lives of the residents of the Owens Valley after the diversion of the river drained life from the valley. I will have more to say on this topic in an upcoming post about Mono Lake. So, moving on for now...

Before leaving Oakland, Susan lent me a book describing the many rustic hot springs (露天風呂 "rotenburo" in Japanese) in the eastern Sierras. I decide to visit one called Hilltop Hot Spring, just five miles from Lake Crowley, at about 6AM. It was a little hard to find, but well worth it. The warm water was very soothing and the mountain views were great. Highly recommended!

pipe carrying hot water to the tub
Hilltop Hot Spring, on Alkali Flat in Long Valley.
N37.662 W118.781

Next: Mono Lake

Water in the Valley of Death

2007-05-14T19:17:00.000-07:00

Badwater Basin, Death Valley
Today my plans revolve around water. First I want to visit Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America, and then go for a swim in the spring-fed pool at Furnace Creek Ranch. So, grab your sunscreen, we're on our way...

It has been getting warmer lately in the Mojave, and today (April 3) the temperature rises to 99 degrees here in Death Valley. (Later I checked the weather data, and it was actually hotter here than at any other place in the country that day.) Driving along under the blazing sun I'm thinking to myself, "Why is it so hot here?" Well, this is what I learned from the National Park Service on that topic:

The depth (200+ feet below sea level) and shape of the valley (long and narrow--yet walled in by steep mountain ranges) have a lot to do with it. Clear, dry air and sparse plant cover allow the desert surface to continuously heat up. The heat radiates from the rocks and soil (the ground temperature can be 80°F hotter than the air!) At night, the heated air rises, but is trapped by the high valley walls and comes back down, only slightly cooler than the surrounding hot valley air. Commpression by the low elevation air pressure creates even more heat, so the valley experiences blowing winds of super-heated air.

I reach for the AC.

After traversing Salsberry Pass (3,315ft) and Jubilee Pass (1,290ft), the descent from the southeast into Death Valley proper begins. Signs mark the descent at regular intervals. 600 feet. 200 feet. Sea Level. 100 feet BELOW sea level. It feels like I'm in one of those war movies where the disabled submarine sinks further and further, with gauges moving into red zones and rivets starting to fly from the intense pressure on the hull. My craft finally hits bottom at around 250 feet below the waves. "Status report!" "No damage, sir!" "Restart the engines, maintain 50mph, heading zero degrees!" "Aye aye, captain."

The Panamint Mountains are on my left and the Amargosa Range is to my right. It is very hot. The desert sun is obviously affecting my mind. That last paragraph proves it.

Ahead I see what looks like... snow??

N36.22991 W116.76793

Of course it is not snow; it is salt: sodium chloride, nearly 100% pure. More than 2,000 years ago this area was a lake some 30 feet deep. The water has evaporated, leaving the salt behind in depths of one to five feet.

A briny pond here contains more open water than I have seen anywhere else in Death Valley, but it is four times saltier than the ocean--unfit for man or beast. Hence the name Badwater. But it is not devoid of life. A rare species of snail lives under the salt crust at the edge of the pond, feeding on algae.

Immediately behind the pond rises the steep rock face of the Black Mountains. Estimated to be 1,700 million years old, these Precambrian relics are, I believe, the oldest exposed rocks in the United States. They are remnants of a volcanic mountain belt ancient beyond comprehension, almost twice as old as the surface of the moon.

All very interesting. But I have some less salty water on my mind... I can't wait to make it up to Furnace Creek Ranch, 18 miles to the north, so that I can take a swim in their crystal clear spring-fed pool. I stayed at Furnace Creek Ranch on my previous visit to Death Valley, and it is quite a place! For those of you who might not have read about it, here is the link to my earlier post.

The place to be at the hottest spot in the United States
I spend an hour or so enjoying the cool water and shade of the palm trees. Then I return to the car, looking forward to the next item on my agenda. Now I will drive west out of Death Valley National Park and run smack into the most impressive line of mountains you can see in the Lower 48...the great cordillera of the Sierra Nevada.

"Death Valley is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to buy gas there."
The price of gas in Death Valley on April 3, 2007 was $4.23, 58% above the nationwide average of $2.67

The Old Spanish Trail

2007-05-11T16:25:00.000-07:00

The morning begins at 5:30, when I get up to drive Mom to the airport. We've been together for eleven days, through Death Valley, northern Arizona, southern Utah, and now Las Vegas. It's been a great trip. But now she has to return to Iowa, and I must return Susan & Tools' car to them in Oakland.

So now I'm headed west to the Pacific. The first part of this journey, from Las Vegas to Death Valley, will follow an old route called the Old Spanish Trail.

The trail--following ancient paths blazed by Utes, Paiutes and Mojaves--was the primary trade route across the Mojave Desert from the 1820s through the 1850s, extending about 1,200 miles from Santa Fe to Los Angeles.

The Old Spanish Trail was known as "the longest, most arduous and crookedest pack mule route in America"
Back then, trail users included traders, trappers, slavers, horse thieves, military troops and adventurers. Traders took blankets from Santa Fe to California and returned with horses bought and stolen from the west coast. Indian tribes in Utah and Nevada sold their own and other tribal members as slaves in return for European goods.

I picked up the trail heading west on Tropicana Avenue in Las Vegas. Here and there one sees a few references to this historic route.

West Tropicana Avenue in Las Vegas follows the Old Spanish Trail.

On the expanding fringe of Vegas, about 20 miles from the city
Finally, about 20 miles from the fantasy world of the Las Vegas Strip, I put the fastest-growing city in America behind me. Now I'm back in the real world...the Basin & Range, the Mojave Desert.

This was about the only car I saw as I approached the California border.

Downhill from here: Emigrant Pass, 2805 feet above sea level in Inyo County, California
N35.88422 W116.06318
The Lost Forty-Niners passed this way before becoming, well...lost in Death Valley in December 1849. Theirs in an interesting tale of impatience, greed and blunder. Click the link to find out more.

As green as it gets. Near Tecopa, California

At Tecopa I reach Hwy. 127, the north-south road where I take my leave of the Old Spanish Trail. I am about to enter Death Valley National Park, for the second time on this journey.

Next: Bad and Good Water

The Strip (Las Vegas: Part 2)

2007-05-09T12:53:00.000-07:00

"Ours was the first and will doubtless be the last party of whites to visit this profitless locale." -Lieutanant Joseph Christmas Ives in 1857, on sailing up the Colorado River to a point near the present location of Las Vegas.

A remnant of the old Las Vegas Strip, before things like this muscled in...
N36.12882 W115.16735

The island of Manhattan has been transplanted here, complete with traffic.
N36.10127 W115.17355

In 1970 there were slightly more than 20,000 hotel rooms in Las Vegas. The number today is a staggering 151,000 and rising: another 11,000 are under construction, with a whopping 35,000 more on the drawing board. Vegas already has almost two times the hotel space as New York City. In fact, 15 of the world's 20 largest hotels are found in Las Vegas! The number of tourists has risen from 21 million in 1990, to 39 million in 2006. And they arrive ready to empty their pockets: tourists spent $15 billion here last year, and only 40% of that was in the casinos.

Where is some of that money spent? Let me show you...

Evidence of the secret tradeoff that allowed America to build Euro Disneyland in France

The MGM Grand is the largest hotel in the world with 5,000 rooms.
N36.10228 W115.16948
An exact reproduction of Hofbräuhaus München, with beer brewed in Munich according to the German Purity Law of 1516.
N36.10778 W115.15189

Maybe they have this on their blogs too? Lobby ceiling at the Bellagio.
N36.11307 W115.17631

Left: "The bodies of these birds are comprised of feathers and thousands of fresh Statice flowers. The legs are covered in mixed bird seed."
Right: Somebody should tell the Bellagio about this bug...even fantasy gardens require a good blast of pesticide.

"Well, Edna, that was a bit fancier than back in Des Moines."
Las Vegas Blvd., a.k.a. "The Strip" by night

Video of the hourly fountain show outside the Bellagio.
Does anyone remember we're in the Mojave Desert?
What better way to instill the love of gambling in your children than to combine it with a fairy-tale castle?
N36.09966 W115.17446
End of the day

Next: The Old Spanish Trail

Nothing Like It In the World (Las Vegas: Part 1)

2007-05-08T08:05:00.000-07:00

Night panorama of the Las Vegas Strip.
Photo by Matthew Field.
Las Vegas is an urban cigarette.
Both are glamorous and seductive. One delivers nicotine, the other delivers fantasies. Imbibe and your brain chemistry becomes altered. "Enjoy me now," they seem to say. "Worry about the world another day."

Unable to resist, I succumb to the temptation to revel in the fantastic sights of the Las Vegas Strip.

The Luxor Hotel and Casino
N36.09588 W115.17339
Our reservations were at the Luxor. Never having been to Vegas before, I wanted to begin with someplace familiar, where I might recognize a thing or two. And since I had visited Luxor, Egypt several years ago, this accomodation seemed to fit the bill.

Truth be told, I wasn't really expecting them to be much alike. The Vegas version is dominated by a 30-story pyramid and a gigantic sphinx. In Egypt, those things are found, not at Luxor, but Giza, over 300 miles away. But they did have this in common: In Egypt, the tourist en route to his destination is often mobbed by many less privileged persons, who try to convince him to part with his cash. In Vegas, that function exists as well, only it has been transferred to the slot machine. Everywhere one goes, there is an opportunity to gamble on and on... I could just hear these machines calling out, "Baksheesh, baksheesh..."

Across the ocean, an older sphinx faces the Nile, the source of Egypt's wealth.
This behemoth watches McCarran International Airport, a more lucrative source of riches.

Pyramid interiors have become roomier over the centuries, and no longer smell like 4,500-year-old dirty socks. This is the largest atrium in the world.

At night, the 350-foot-high pyramid shoots forth a mega blast of light into the sky.

Next: A stroll up the Las Vegas Strip

St. George and the Blue Bunny

2007-05-07T14:50:00.000-07:00

It's-get-ting-cold-in-here / I-want-to-buy-some-clothes
Upon leaving Zion National Park a day ago, the trip leading up to Las Vegas is now one of not-so-gradual re-entry back to American consumer culture.

And what could be more American than ice cream? In St. George, tucked away in the southwest corner of Utah, we found the Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor. We were familiar with the brand because, well, back in Iowa everybody knows Blue Bunny Ice Cream, from the small town of Le Mars, self-proclaimed "Ice Cream Capital of the World". Family-owned Wells' Dairy has built a plant and distribution center here in St. George to expand their business in the western United States. Now you can find Blue Bunny Ice Cream even in Death Valley.

N37.10808 W113.58277
When the Wells family decided to build an ice cream parlor here, they must have left their Iowa conservatism back home. Here's what their brochure says:

"Guests are lured into the world of Blue Bunny, with exciting colors, towering ice cream cone sculptures and an interactive light feature.

Luring us into the world of Blue Bunny
"The Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor staff strives to make each guest's visit exceptional by providing excellent customer service and fun performances, including dancing, singing and other activities that encourage guest participation. You never know what they might do during your visit!"

Too bad I waited until leaving the store to read the brochure, or I would have known to ask the lone girl behind the counter to entertain us with a song or dance, rather than see her engage in boring chit-chat with her friend who wandered in aimlessly when we were halfway through our rich, calorie-packed shakes.

Next: Las Vegas

Cedar City, Utah

2007-05-04T15:01:00.000-07:00

Leaving Zion, we drove a few dozen miles northwest to spend the night in the town of Cedar City. This place was entirely forgettable, except for two items.

1) Every pickup that drives around through town has at least one dog on board. Sometimes two or more. This fact was learned while spending 30 minutes at Wendy's and watching all the traffic out the window. I had the impression that canines run the show here, with humans serving as their lackeys, chauffeurs, taxi drivers, you name it.

2) There is an exceptional local museum here, called Iron Mission State Park. It showcases the local history of Cedar City, and has an astounding array of old wagon, buggies, and coaches. These are from the days when horses, rather than pickups, served to drive all the dogs around town.

Iron Mission, in Cedar City, Utah is one of the best local history museums I've ever visited
N37.68874 W113.06284
How dogs got around in the 1800s
The stagecoach holding my cardboard cutout (for photos of me on bad hair days)

Next: St. George and the Blue Bunny

Zion

2007-05-02T15:01:00.000-07:00

Towers of the Virgin: the view upon emerging from the one-mile-long Zion-Mount Carmel Highway Tunnel
N37.21218 W112.95699
My favorite scenic stop on this 3,000 mile tour of the Southwest was, undoubtably, Zion Canyon. I would love to return here for some great hiking.

An American Shangri-La, Zion National Park is an oasis at the western edge of the Colorado Plateau. The Virgin River, which breathes life into this remarkable place, is one of the last mostly free-flowing river systems on the Plateau, an area of 130,000 square miles. What riches are found here! The varied microenvironments of Zion sustain the greatest diversity of plants in Utah--almost 800 native species, as well as 75 species of mammals, 271 birds, 32 reptiles and amphibians, and 6 native fish.

A lizard sunning himself
Famed explorer and scientist John Wesley Powell recorded the Paiute name for this place as Mukuntuweap. To the Mormon pioneers who began arriving in 1858, however, it became Zion, an Old Testament place of safety or refuge. Thanks to them, Zion is festooned with place names of biblical origin: Angels Landing, Court of the Patriarchs, Great White Throne, Towers of the Virgin. Ned Flanders would definitely feel at home.

We arrived here on April 1, which was the first day of the season in which it was mandatory to view Zion Canyon by shuttle bus. Already crowded, the buses certainly cut down on air pollution in the Canyon and made it feel less congested. Stepping off the bus, there are a wide variety of hiking trails to choose from. Mom and I chose the relatively easy Weeping Rock and Riverside Walk trails.

Evidence of Ancestral Puebloan ("Anasazi") habitation dates from 2,000 years ago, followed by the Paiutes around 1200AD. Although humans have lived here for a long time, Zion was until recently a very remote place. Then in 1923 the railroad came to nearby Cedar City, and from there a road was built to Zion Canyon. In 1930, visitation increased again as the Zion-Mount Carmel Highway and Tunnel were completed, linking Zion to Bryce Canyon and points east.

Park visitors in 1920: 3,692
Park visitors in 2006: 2.6 million

The Virgin River emerges here from The Narrows to bless Zion Canyon
N37.29522 W112.94834

Looking south at Zion Canyon from Riverside Walk
N37.28562 W112.94942

These 1,000 foot-high cliffs are the tallest sandstone cliffs in the world.
Near Zion Lodge N37.25101 W112.95796

Next: Cedar City

Bryce Canyon

2007-04-30T12:10:00.000-07:00

The "Hoodoos" in Bryce Amphitheater
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I am learning that quirks of fate have played a large hand in naming some of our most famous national parks. Death Valley, for example, got its name after one (and only one!) lost fortune-seeker died here, while trying to find the gold fields in 1849.

Here's another one that confused me...Bryce Canyon.

can·yon: noun
a deep valley with steep sides, often with a stream flowing through it.

Bryce, Ebenezer (1830-1913)
Mormon convert who came to America c. 1847. Helped complete a seven-mile irrigation ditch from Paria Creek. Built a road to make timber more accessible. People started to call the amphitheater where the road terminated, “Bryce’s Canyon.” Bryce lived in the area only five years, then spent his remaining 23 years in Arizona.

Having now seen Bryce Canyon, I can tell you that neither of the words in its name describes it whatsover. It is not like any canyon I've ever seen, and this fellow Bryce's connection to it is just a coincidence.

There is, however, a very descriptive and accurate name for this beautiful national park. It suffers from just one shortfall: being unpronouncable, at least to me. That name, in Paiute, is Agka-ku-wass-a-wits, meaning, "red-rocks, many-standing-in-holes." Think of this name, and you will have some idea of what Bryce really is.

Sunrise Point, Bryce Canyon National Park
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Next: Zion Canyon

With Apologies, Capitol Reef

2007-04-24T16:15:00.000-07:00

West of Hanksville, Utah

Yesterday I mentioned that the Colorado Plateau has a higher concentration of parklands than anywhere else in North America.

Well, at this point in the trip there was a moment when I had this thought: "Yet another National Park?" It was getting late, and we'd already been--in one day--through Monument Valley, Goosenecks State Park, the Moki Dugway, and Natural Bridges National Monument...great places all. So, when Capitol Reef National Park came within range...we just kept driving.

Capitol what? Capitol Reef. Perhaps the biggest national park that you've never heard of. And--sad to say--I'm not going to do anything to change that.

At least I snapped a few pictures while we drove through Capitol Reef on our way to the night's rest stop in the small town of Torrey...

Colorado Plateau

2007-04-23T13:05:00.000-07:00

The middle of the Colorado Plateau, near Kayenta, Arizona
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Q: What region has the highest concentration of parklands in North America?

A: The Colorado Plateau, with nine national parks, 16 national monuments, one national historic park, many state parks, millions of acres of national forest, and many other protected lands.

The Colorado Plateau is a physiographic province in the western United States covering an area of 130,000 square miles. Not one single plateau, it is in fact a huge basin ringed by highlands and filled with plateaus. What makes it unique? Well, compared with the regions that surround it, the Colorado Plateau has been remarkably stable. While the Rocky Mountains to the east and the basin and range country to the west were being thrust, stretched, and fractured into existence, the Colorado Plateau earned a name for itself by the simple device of remaining structurally intact.

All of my posts from Flagstaff to Zion Canyon (upcoming) are set against the backdrop of this sprawling region. Here are some photos I took of typical plants one sees in the Colorado Plateau...

Piñon Pine. This often stunted tree has many uses. The seeds (nuts) are a rich source of protein, riboflavin, niacin and potassium. There is as much protein in a pound of pinyon pine nuts as an equal amount of beef. The pitch mixed with red clay and mutton tallow made a salve similar to Vaseline and was used to treat skin irritations. Pitch was also used to fasten arrowheads and knives to wooden shafts, to waterproof baskets, cement turquoise stones to silverwork, repair sandals or pottery and as a source of chewing gum. Warmed pitch was used to remove splinters. The rotted wood was ground into a talcum powder and boiled leaves were used to control diarrhea. The easily carved wood was used for ceremonial objects.

The Datil Yucca. Indians used just about every part of the yucca plant. The fleshy fruit was eaten green or dried for winter meals. Baked, it tastes like a potato. Mixed with berries, the pulp was made into a cake. The young stalks were eaten like asparagus. As an ingredient in root beer the plant creates the foamy, white head.

Utah Juniper. Juniper logs were used as roof beams in ancient dwellings and store houses. The wood was used for fence posts and implements like digging sticks. Shredded bark could be used as tinder, diaper pads, and braided into rope. A brew made from juniper was used as a laxative.

Rabbit brush. This plant was used to treat coughs, cold and headaches. The mature blossoms make a yellow dye. The seeds can be ground and baked into a bread or mush. The branches were used for baskets, mats and arrows. Root concentrates were used for internal injuries.

Mormon Tea. These have a variety of medicinal uses and have been used by many cultures for centuries. The pioneers brewed a tea-like beverage from the stems as a diuretic and for bladder and kidney problems. Dried and ground, Mormon Tea is made into a bitter-tasting bread.

Prickly Pear cactus. Spineless prickly pear pads were used to stop bleeding. The fruit can be eaten dried, fresh or cooked with dried peaches and used in stews. Rolling the fruit in sand or singeing it in hot ashes removes the spines.

Thanks to the National Park Service for their descriptions of traditional plant uses.

Utah Highway 95

2007-04-20T10:22:00.000-07:00

Looking toward the Henry Mountains along Hwy 95 in southeast Utah
Utah Highway 95 was my single favorite stretch of road on the entire trip. The scenery created by nearby rock formations and faraway mountains was awesome. This is the Colorado Plateau at its finest.

We joined the road about 10 miles north of the Moki Dugway, and followed it in a northwesterly direction all the way to Hanksville, a distance of about 100 miles. In this whole stretch we saw just a handful of cars, and not a single house!

Here are some photos I took along the way...

Sipapu Bridge in White Canyon. See the arch in the center?...that's the bridge.
Natural Bridges National Monument
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N37.76080 W110.28361

The Hawa Mahal in Jaipur, India...

...and its Utah cousin?
(OK, I admit the resemblance is not as close as I thought it would be.)

Where Hwy 95 crosses the Colorado River

Finding gas in unusal places. Hanksville, Utah

The place to be in the Beehive State

Next: The Colorado Plateau

Moki Dugway

2007-04-19T09:43:00.000-07:00

Where this was about to take us?
The term "moki" is derived from the Spanish word moqui, which was a general term used by the 18th century Spanish explorers and settlers in the region to describe the Pueblo Indians they encountered.

What is the Moki Dugway? To me, it is an experience, one of performing the impossible.

Actually, it is just a road, or part of one (Hwy 261)...but a very steep (10% grade) and winding road. It was built by a mining company (Texas Zinc) in 1958 to transport uranium ore to Mexican Hat for processing. Three miles of unpaved switchbacks take you 1100 feet up to the top of Cedar Mesa. That's what you see in the distance in the photo below.

Cedar Mesa rises 1,100 feet above the plain.
Unbelievably, we were about to ascend it.
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We began the ascent.

After several hundred feet the asphalt pavement disappeared, replaced by dusty gravel. We could never see very far ahead, and several times I thought we were nearing the end, only to be surprised again at the next turn. The views looking down on the tableland below became more and more interesting.

Looking back at where we came from, but still 200 feet from the top
Reaching the top of the mesa (6,418 feet above sea level) the air was cooler and there was much more vegetation. Trees! Our trip was entering a new phase...Welcome to Utah.

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Next: Utah Hwy 95: A Great Scenic Road

Goosenecks of the San Juan River

2007-04-18T00:42:00.000-07:00

The B.E.E.M.IN.T.WORLD at Goosenecks State Park
Soon after crossing the Utah state line driving north from Arizona, we crossed the San Juan River at a small town called Mexican Hat. I think you're wondering, so I'll just tell you and get it out of the way: this settlement got its name from a rock formation called Mexican Hat Rock just north of town.

How Mexican Hat, Utah got its name
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It turns out that the San Juan near here is no ordinary river. Read on...

We exited the main road, and took a four-mile detour from our route to see the Goosenecks.

Google Earth imagery of Goosenecks
The San Juan here flows 1,011 feet below the level of the surrounding plateau, and is so contorted that in the span of a mile it actually flows five miles!

If I might digress for just a moment, I am constantly reminded of the fact that people in the 1800s didn't spend a lot of time driving cars or in supermarkets and online. I know this because the place names they hit upon have little in common with a suburban lifestyle. They were intimately familiar with real animals. All I know about geese, for example, (secondhand, of course) is that they are force-fed through tubes to make fois gras. Instead of Goosenecks, someone of my generation might have named this place "Newly Factory-Produced Twizzler".

Getting back on track...Why is the river like this?

Geologists have named the phenomenon an entrenched meander. Originating in southwest Colorado, the San Juan is a tributary of the Colorado River, joining it not far from here at Lake Powell. Several million years ago, the river established this pattern when it was running (meandering if you will) in a flat plain, like the Mississippi River does today. It became entrenched when the entire plateau was slowly uplifted, a process which is still ongoing. Cutting downward, the river followed its initial pattern, which led to creation of the canyon.

One last thing to point out to any of you who decide to go there...
Rather than trying to irrigate the channel a thousand feet down, I would advise any males to use the restroom thoughtfully provided by the Utah Division of Parks and Recreation. The wind blowing off the rim of the canyon is extremely strong!

I almost forgot: B.E.E.M.IN.T. WORLD means "Best Example (of an) Entrenched Meander in the World." (I made that up, but it's quite possibly true.)

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Next: The Moki Dugway

Monument Valley and the Colossus of Memnon

2007-04-17T11:02:00.000-07:00

Mesas became McDonalds...
Hopi blurred to Hampton Inn...
Kachina turned to Kayenta....

This last one is the name of the northeastern Arizona town where we spent the night after taking our leave of the Hopi reservation. Firmly in the grip of American consumerism, Kayenta (from what I saw) could have been any town between Reno and Raleigh. Once my mind submitted to that reality, I was able to enjoy a fine rest and full breakfast at our hotel (a name at the beginning of this post--you guess which one).

We got a late start the next morning, due to a great deal of unpacking and searching for the one indispensable item in our possession: the car key, without which we would be extending our stay here by several days until a spare could be flown in from California. It was a tense situation until the key was found in a grocery sack. Too bad we had already called a towing company to open up the car...

An inconvenient truth: we had no idea where to find the key
When we finally left town, some spectacular scenery greeted us as we drove north on Hwy 163... Monument Valley. The Navajo who live here call this Tsé Bii' Ndzisgaii (I'll let you pronounce it, but it means Valley of the Rocks). Monument Valley is not at all what I consider a valley, but instead a scattering of buttes and mesas rising in splendid isolation hundreds of feet above the floor of the desert.

Every guidebook you look at will tell you that this location has been the backdrop for many a Western, but even such films as 2001: A Space Odyssey, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and Forrest Gump include scenes shot here.

So many formations and angles that it's hard to keep track of them. The top photo is centered on a spot called Mitchell's Butte, and the bottom one is--I believe--looking at Monument Pass.
No wonder this place is an icon. Stare at these rocks long enough, and the mind will start to see things and make associations. Some of the names on the map include words like Stagecoach, Saddleback, Elephant... One rock I saw reminded me of a place I had visited in Egypt several years ago. Don't tell me that you can't see a resemblance:

This spot in Monument Valley...
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...reminds me of this 3,400-year-old statue near Luxor, Egypt.
N25.72055 E32.61055
The map calls this Owl's Rock, but I'm calling it
The Colossus of Memnon. You heard it here first.

Next: Goosenecks of the San Juan

First Mesa (Part 3: Hopi Culture)

2007-04-16T09:52:00.000-07:00

Left: Hopi canteen (Stanford Museum). Right: basketware from the village of Oraibi

Note: Scroll down to start with First Mesa-Part 1 if you haven't read those posts yet.

Because it is a sacred place for the Hopi, outsiders are admitted to Walpi only by guided tour. The Hopi are a very spiritual people, and within its small area Walpi has a number of kivas, rooms which are used for religious and civic purposes. Most of the year the kivas are open only to men, but women are admitted at the time of the solstice festival.

Our guide was happy to explain Hopi beliefs and customs, but she sometimes had to stop and consider what was appropriate to tell visitors, and what should remain within the tribe. One important fact is that the Hopi are one of the few traditionally matrilineal societies, where inheritance and social status is determined by the female. A man will become part of his wife's clan upon marriage.

Read on to see what the World Culture Encyclopedia says about Hopi religious beliefs:

The Hopi universe consists of earth, metaphorically spoken of as "our mother," the upper world, and the under world from which the Hopi came and to which their spirits go after death. Although the concept of original creation is unclear, there are various accounts of the Emergence into this present world from three preceding ones, the place of emergence, or the sipapu, being located in the Grand Canyon. Each of the preceding worlds came to an end because of some evil done by witches, and the present world will someday come to an end also. In order to forestall this and to keep the world in harmony, ceremonies are performed by ceremonial societies and by kiva members. The universe is balanced between a feminine principle, the earth, and a masculine one, manifested in the fructifying but dangerous powers of sun, rain, and lightning. Evil is caused by the deliberate actions of witches, called "two-hearts" because they have bargained away their hearts for personal gain and must steal another's heart to prolong their own lives. When a ceremonial leader is believed to "steal" the heart of a relative to ensure that the ceremony will be successful, there is an element of magical human sacrifice in this belief.

In Hopi cosmology Dawa, the Sun-Spirit, created the Four Worlds.

There are three major classes of supernatural. The most individualized are the gods and goddesses, each having his or her special area of concern. Figures or impersonations of these deities are used in ceremonial activity.

A few of the kachinas are individuals, but most of them are classes of beings each with its different character and appearance. In kachina dances the dancers wear the costume appropriate to the kachina type they portray. Some types are more popular than others; new ones are invented and old ones drop out of use.

Kachina dolls from 19th c. to present. Artists unknown.
These are given to girls to teach them about the over 300 kachina spirits.
Finally, there are the generalized spirits of natural objects and life-forms, who will be offended if one of their earthly representatives is treated improperly. Thus, when a game animal is killed, its spirit, and the generalized spirits of that animal type, must be placated.

The Hopi follow a ceremonial calendar determined by solar and stellar positions. The ceremonial year begins with Wuwtsim, the Emergence ceremony, in November. Soyal, occurring at the time of winter solstice, is conducted by the village chief, and its officers are the men holding the leading ceremonial positions in the village. It is at this time that ceremonial arrangements for the coming year are planned. Powamuya, in February, is a planting festival in which beans are sprouted in the kivas in anticipation of the agricultural season. This is a great kachina festival, with many types being represented. Kachina dances begin after Soyal and continue until July, when Niman or Home Dance is held. This celebrates the return of the kachinas to their unearthly homes in the mountain peaks and the under world.

Snake dance at Walpi

Snake-Antelope and Flute Dances alternate biennially in August, the first emphasizing war and the destructive element and the second emphasizing the continuity of life after death. In September, Mamrawt, or the principal women's ceremony, is held. This contains many elements found in Wuwtsim. The other women's societies hold their ceremonies in October. Along with these ceremonies, there are some that are held only from time to time and others that have been defunct for many years. In addition, there are many small rituals. Accounts of the late nineteenth century indicate that hardly a day passed without some ritual activity taking place somewhere in each village. While ceremonies have specific purposes, all are in some way thought to bring rain, which is valued both for itself and as a symbol of abundance and prosperity. The kachinas, especially, are rain-givers. Kachina dances are joyous public events, consisting of carefully choreographed dance sets interspersed with comical performances of clowns. The clowns, like ignorant children, mock everything and understand nothing. Social deviants are shamed by the clowns' mockery.

1899 photo of Hopi snake priest (with snake in mouth!)
(Library of Congress)

Next post: Monument Valley and the Colossus of Memnon

First Mesa (Part 2: Walpi)

2007-04-14T09:57:00.000-07:00

"Picturesque Walpi, perched on the point of a rocky island in a sea of sand, is an irregular, rambling community-house, built without design, added to in haphazard fashion as need arose; yet it constitutes a perfectly satisfying artistic whole."
Edward S. Curtis, The North American Indian (1907)
Approach to Walpi a century ago. It looks much the same today.
Walpi is the oldest village on First Mesa. It was established in 1690 when a Hopi village at the foot of the mesa was abandoned out of fear of Spanish reprisals for the Pueblo Revolt of 1680. Terraced onto a narrow rock table, Walpi is the most pristine and enchanting of the Hopi villages. (Oraibi [N35.87613 W110.63957], on Third Mesa, is older--going back to around 1100.)

This is a living village, not an abandoned ruin. But these days only a handful of elderly people stay here year-round. Because there is no electricity or running water in Walpi, residents now walk a few dozen yards to neighboring Sichomovi for bathing. In former times women hauled water up to the mesa from the plain below. There are no visible signs of commerce here, or any activity whatsover save the few villagers offering handmade kachina dolls or pottery for sale and the dogs that eagerly joined our tour.

Walpi street scene
Views from the windswept mesa are awesome. Stairways cut into the side of the rock lead to agricultural fields and cow pasture on the plain below. The constant going up and down, often with heavy loads, must have kept the Hopi in excellent shape in the past. Now, our guide said, "You can always recognize a Hopi because we are short ... and chubby!"

The impression I received of the Hopi was of a generous and peaceful people. All the people we met were extremely courteous and welcoming. They asked only that we respect their traditions and not take photographs. Photos shown here were taken by Edward S. Curtis in 1906. Northwestern University Library, Edward S. Curtis's "The North American Indian," 2003.

Left: Stairway leading down from the mesa. Right: Young Hopi women

The plaza at Walpi

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Next: Part 3 (Hopi Culture)

First Mesa (Part 1: Arrival)

2007-04-13T11:52:00.000-07:00

Looking up at First Mesa from below. You can't tell it by this photo, but three traditional villages sit on top of the mesa, 300-500 feet above the plain. The houses below are in the village of Polacca, on the plain.
We are so lucky I turned down a hamburger.

I had called ahead to the Hopi Reservation to ask what time guided tours were being offered of First Mesa, one of three mesas overlooking the Colorado Plateau that the Hopi claim as their ancestral home.

"Be there between three and three-thirty," I was told by the voice on the other end. Not knowing how long the drive would take, and not wanting to be late, I declined Mom's offer to stop at the Cameron Trading Post for another good meal, and instead we kept heading east through the seemingly empty scrublands of the Navajo Nation.

There are no signs announcing one's entry to the Hopi Reservation. The Hopi are not a large tribe (about 7,000 members in the last census), and their reservation is surrounded on every side by the 27,000 square miles of land belonging to the much more numerous Navajo.

Second Mesa (on the left side of the photo) as seen from Highway 264
One reason I wanted to visit here is that this is their home. These lands have always belonged to the Hopi; they were not forced to move here by the United States government. Approaching from the west, you go past Third and Second Mesas before reaching First Mesa.

When we arrived at the foot of First Mesa, I turned off the main road and followed a steep gravel lane to the top, several hundred feet above the plain below. I had been told to look for a stone building called Ponsi Hall, where the tour would begin. My precconceived notions of clearly marked signs and paved parking lots are far away from the reality here. Just park anywhere, walk up to Ponsi Hall--you can't miss it--and open the door to whatever awaits.

It was 2:15. We were 45 minutes early. Or so I thought.

When we walked in, a guide was teaching some Hopi words to a group of about a dozen tourists. I was a bit surprised that, although the language appears to be maintained somehow, it seems to be understood by a small minority...even older women in the room did not know number words beyond ten.

After a few minutes the demonstration was over, and the tour was about to begin. We paid our $8 registration fee and joined the group. It turns out that this was the only tour of the day, and had we arrived at three thirty it would already have been over.

I learned that atop the mesa are three traditional villages: Tewa, Sichomovi, and Walpi. Because this land is sacred to the Hopi, I was not allowed to take photos. A short walk took us from Tewa, the most modern of the three villages, through Sichomovi, and within five minutes we were at Walpi. What awaited us was a highlight of our entire trip.

Next: Part 2 (Walpi)
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New Map Feature

2007-04-12T23:14:00.000-07:00

I have added a map to help keep track of the places described in this blog. It is hosted at a site called Wayfaring.com. It will be shown permanently under "map" on the right side of this page. Just click on the map itself to get more detail.

All of the places I talk about are shown under "Waypoints" in the detailed view. When you select any individual waypoint, you can be taken directly to the relevant blog posting if you click under where it says "description."

Let me know what you think of this feature by commenting to this post, or by sending me an email. If you are unfamiliar with Google Maps you might be a little confused at first, but feel free to ask if you encounter any problems.

I appreciate the comments you've been leaving on the guest book. I have a lot more to write about, and it will take a few weeks to get it all in. Thanks for your patience, and for returning regularly! A posting about the Hopi reservation will be up soon.

The Grand Canyon

2007-04-10T22:04:00.000-07:00

I have some hesitation in trying to describe the Grand Canyon. The scale of it is just so far above and beyond that of day-to-day experience that words are inadequate to describe this unique wonder. I am speechless. The pictures do a much better job, but they also present only a small fragment of the whole.

This is my second visit here to the South Rim. I noticed a new Visitor Center, built to withstand visitors numbering in the thousands. Even at the end of March, the number of visitors seemed already quite high.

We stayed one night in the town of Tusayan, which seems to serve only one purpose, to be the bedroom town for the Canyon. Leaving here, our next destination is the Hopi Reservation.

The Navajo Taco

2007-04-10T11:51:00.000-07:00

THE TACO, before I set to work
The biggest meal I have eaten in a long, long time was a one-course affair known as the Navajo taco, ingested with gusto at the Cameron Trading Post.

The Navajo taco starts with “fry bread”, a fresh, springy bread that is patted flat and deep fried to a golden brown, then smothered with a spicy combination of ground beef and beans, and topped with chopped green chile, fresh lettuce and tomato, and tangy cheddar cheese. It was served with a zesty homemade salsa.

This is the most famous item on the menu in the trading post's restaurant, and could realistically satisfy a party of about three. Our Navajo waiter, after looking at my thin frame commented "Oh, you must be hungry," which I interpreted to mean "Are you sure? There's no way a guy like you can eat that!" Having been issued a challenge like that, there was no way I was going to let him win the argument. The next hour was spent dissecting and enjoying this wonderful meal. It was a tough slog toward the end, and I did leave a sprinkling of pinto beans scattered across the plate, but everything else was consumed with relish. After this gargantuan meal, I didn't feel any appetite for another day.

The Cameron Trading Post was established in 1916, and has a huge shop selling Native American art, pottery, jewelry, rugs and other items. I bought a tomohawk here which one day will find its place above my fireplace mantle.

This talented Navajo weaver described her rugs to us.

Left: a small part of the pottery assortment. Right: Cameron Trading Post in 1930
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Wukoki Pueblo

2007-04-09T10:41:00.000-07:00

Wukoki Pueblo is an ancient Indian construction, rising above the Colorado Plateau on an outcropping of Moenkopi sandstone. With a commanding view of the surrounding terrain, it is visible from several miles away.

The name Wukoki is the modern Hopi word for "big house." There were three stories in what seems to be a tower that rises on one side of the outcropping. A total of six or seven rooms may have been home for two or three families. It is a grand structure, built with a fine sense of balance and proportion.

Occupation of this pueblo is dated from approximately 1120 to 1210 AD, based on types of pottery found there. Today’s Hopi and Zuni tribes are believed to be the descendants of the people who lived here. As with other Indian ruins in the region, there seems to be a good deal of uncertainty about who built these communities and why they left them. In this harsh climate with scarce water and marginal farmland, it can be assumed that life was not easy.

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There are other ancient dwellings in the area, spread over the dry, rugged land directly west of the Little Colorado River. Another, called Wupatki Pueblo, contains a ball court, which may have belonged to cultural traditions of Indians living in Mexico. Many such structures have been found (with over 200 across Arizona), leading experts to believe that ball games were an important part of life for these people.

Before Cleveland: home court of the Wupatki Indians. The ballcourt here is 78 feet wide, with a six foot high wall. (reconstructed from remnants)

Both of these pueblos are found in Wupatki National Monument, a 56 square mile preserve located about 25 miles north of Flagstaff, Arizona. From here we headed to the Grand Canyon.

Kelso Dunes video

2007-04-08T22:58:00.001-07:00

In my effort continuously improve the blog (改善 "kaizen" is the concept in Japan), I have finally gotten around to mastering the trick of posting video clips. Remember my March 24 post about the "booming" Kelso Dunes? (If not, click here). You can now hear it for yourself, from the comfort of your desk. Just think of us, tirelessly hiking a mile out in the sandy desert in order to bring this experience home to you.

Click on the arrow in the middle of the frame above.
Listen carefully, and you'll hear a clicking sound at the beginning of the clip. That's it!

Riordan Mansion, Flagstaff

2007-03-27T16:00:00.000-07:00

My blog now has a guest book. I would appreciate it if you would let me know you stopped by, by clicking the green link on the right side of the page.
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I like touring homes, because of the insights you gain into the character of the home's residents, and the times they lived in. In Flagstaff, the most interesting home to visit is the Riordan Mansion, which was constructed in 1904 for the Riordan families: two brothers and their wives and children. Timothy and Michael Riordan were logging titans; they became millionaires by negotiating 25-year contracts with the railroad to cut down, saw, and sell off the forests of northern Arizona.

Their home--two identical homes, actually, connected by a long playroom--has 40 rooms, over 13,000 square-feet of living area, and servants' quarters. The house is full of original possessions, including a very impressive collection of Craftsman furniture. This style was at the height of popularity a century ago, and still has fans today (including me). It is extremely collectible, with individual pieces known to sell in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.

My favorite item in the home was Tim Riordan's dining room table. It curves like a lens, coming to a point at either end. In this way guests could talk easily with everyone else at the table, and Mr. Riordan could downplay his stature as Flagstaff's richest citizen. The table was designed by Mr. Riordan himself. Mrs. Riordan had a fountain installed close by, which she would turn on to politely remind her husband that he was talking too long.

The main room for family time was called the "swing room." A large green wicker swing hangs from the ceiling, and faced either the fireplace or the trees outside, depending on the time of year.

Sedona, Arizona

2007-03-27T10:39:00.000-07:00

Cathedral Rock, just south of Sedona

Mom and I made a day trip to the town of Sedona, about 30 miles south of Flagstaff. The drive there on Hwy 89A passes through the steep and narrow gorge called Oak Creek Canyon. Sedona opens out at the southern end of the canyon,surrounded by beautiful sandstone cliffs and buttes.

Thanks to an elevation drop of about 2,500 feet, temperatures here are much warmer than in Flagstaff. We left snow there, but basked in warmth once we reached Sedona, which lies at the northern fringe of the Sonoran Desert.

Chapel of the Holy Cross, completed 50 years ago
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An odd thing about this town is that it is filled with stands claiming to purvey tourist information, but when I asked if any informative brochures might be available, was told that I should go buy a book, because "bookstores sell those kinds of things." Go figure.

Scenery is the main reason to visit Sedona. It also attracts artists and New Age devotees, who believe that Sedona has several "energy vortices." These are locations where Mother Earth supposedly produces invisible, swirling energy that is said to have an uplifting, rejuvenating effect on visitors. Just getting out of town--the traffic was terrible--had a rejuventating effect on me.

Route 66

2007-03-27T08:02:00.000-07:00

Flagstaff was on the path of old US Route 66, and the town has gone to some efforts to preserve its memory.

Route 66 began as a way to link main streets of rural and urban communities that had no access to national highways, allowing farmers on the prairies and plains to get grain and other crops to major markets. Its diagonal path from Chicago to Los Angeles is fairly flat and temperate, making it popular and practical for truck shipping. During the Dustbowl of the 1930s, Route 66 was a major route for migrants heading west to California. In the 1950s it was the main highway for vacationers to Los Angeles.

When Route 66 received its numerical designation in 1926 it was the first interstate highway. The entire 2,448-mile length of Route 66 was not paved until 1938. US66 was officially decommissioned in 1985, after it was deemed irrelevant due to the Interstate Highway System. This has crippled many small towns that were economically dependent on the highway.

Old Route 66 in Flagstaff: 1950 and Today. Grew from two lanes to five, but seems the weather hasn't changed. (N35.19012 W111.66433)

Flagstaff, Arizona

2007-03-27T07:13:00.000-07:00

I love Flagstaff. The elevation is about 7,000 feet; the air is clean; it's near mountains and forest; and the downtown area is nice with several outdoor goods stores. It makes a good base before setting out for the Grand Canyon, which is why I have stayed here twice. Flagstaff got its start in 1882 with the Atlantic and Pacific Railway (later renamed the Atchison, Topeka and Sante Fe). Its early years were centered around forestry and the railroad. Northern Arizona University is here, as well as the Lowell Observatory, where that dearly-departed planet Pluto was discovered.

The weather turned cold here, with an inch of snow on the ground within a day of arrival. And the winds!! Almost makes me kind of homesick for Death Valley. We're staying two nights in Flagstaff, and will make a day trip to Sedona before moving northward.

Hoover Dam

2007-03-26T17:08:00.000-07:00

Hoover Dam impounds the Colorado River on the Nevada-Arizona border southeast of Las Vegas. Construction was begun in 1931 and completed in 1936. Over 5,000 workers were employed during construction of the dam, which contains 3.25 million cubic yards of concrete, is 726 feet high, 660 feet thick at the base, and 1244 feet long at the crest. It was the highest dam in the world from 1935 to 1967. Hoover dam generates 4 billion KwH of electricity per year, enough for 1.3 million people.

Lake Mead was created by the Hoover Dam. Water from Lake Mead irrigates farmland in southern California and southwestern Arizona. It supplies municipal water to Las Vegas, Phoenix, and 33 communities in LA area. Lake Mead covers 247 square miles, and has 700 miles of shoreline. It is the largest man-made reservoir in the US.

While the construction of the Hoover Dam was undoubtedly an engineering feat of immense proportions, opinion is split over whether the benefits of the dam outweigh the environmental harm done.

My own opinion (it's my blog, so I guess I'm entitled) is that the benefits are more temporary in nature, while the damage is less so. Population pressures catch up again after a respite of a few decades...look at Las Vegas, which grew phenomenally in the past half-century thanks to the Hoover Dam, but is now constrained again. My thinking is largely influenced by the chapter on the Aswan High Dam in a book I read a few years ago entitled "Something New Under the Sun: an Environmental History of the Twentieth Century World" by historian J.R. McNeill.

Mom and I stopped by here after seeing Susan and Tools off at the Las Vegas airport. We are driving to Flagstaff, Arizona this evening.

Notice how low the waterline is on Lake Mead.

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Ghost Town of Rhyolite, Nevada

2007-03-26T14:35:00.000-07:00

Left: Rhyolite mercantile, Right: General store

Left: unidentified building, Right: School

Gold was discovered here in 1904, and the town had upwards of 10,000 people within three years. The Panic of 1907 is said to have crippled the town, and the mine closed in 1911. We had a nice picnic lunch next to the old train station.
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Death Valley Ranch, a.k.a. "Scotty's Castle"

2007-03-26T13:15:00.000-07:00

An unfinished hacienda for a Chicago millionaire
Surely one of the most interesting places to visit in Death Valley is "Scotty's Castle," a mansion built by Chicago insurance magnate Albert Johnson between 1922 and 1933. As interesting as the home itself, with its completely original furnishings, is the story of the unlikely friendship between conservative, Cornell-educated Johnson and Walter Scott, a cowboy con artist known to all as "Death Valley Scotty". Don't miss it if you come to Death Valley.

Park staff wear 1930's period costumes when leading tours through the home.

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Furnace Creek Ranch (Death Valley National Park)

2007-03-26T08:25:00.000-07:00

Furnace Creek Ranch: an oasis at sunset
Much like Egypt, which has been called “the gift of the Nile” so is Furnace Creek the “gift” of underground springs. Almost 2 million gallons per day emerges from a Pleistocene Ice Age aquifer that extends as far east as southern Nevada and Utah.

These springs form the basis for the Valley's large tourism infrastructure, which consumes 95% of the outflow. One of the rangers told me he is concerned that Las Vegas wishes to drill more wells “up aquifer” to serve its growing population, which would reduce the amount of water available to wildlife living in Death Valley.

Furnace Creek was the site of a large Indian village before Anglo occupation of the valley.

The ranch was established to provide food for the workmen and twenty mule teams of the borax mining operations, which eventually became US Borax. Mining operations at Furnace Creek ceased in 1927, and the ranch opened for tourists in 1932. US Borax continued to own the property until 1969. Furnace Creek Ranch has 224 guest units, three restaurants, a saloon, swimming pool, campgrounds, date palm plantation, a borax museum, a 3,040 foot airstrip, and an 18-hole golf course (the world’s lowest).

Coincidentally, just two months ago I stayed with the luge team at the location of the world’s highest golf couse (Sestriere, in the Italian alps). Maybe I should pick up golf again...

Thanks, Susan and Tools!

entrance gate -- the mules have been replaced by tourists
watering the golf course's palms in the early morning
the spring-fed swimming pool is GREAT

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Just a Matter of Time

2007-03-26T06:41:00.000-07:00

Those of you reading this blog know full well that the time and date shown on the postings are not really when I submitted the posts--I am several days behind with my narrative. An issue that has just gotten more and more confusing to me since leaving California is the simple question, "What time is it?"

When we left there, we drove to Arizona. California is on Pacific Daylight Time. Arizona is on Mountain Standard Time...mostly. That means that even though we changed time zones, I didn't have to change my watch. Yesterday we visited the Hopi Nation, which is on the same time as most of Arizona. But to get there, you have to pass through Navajo country, where they do observe Daylight Savings Time, contrary to the rest of the state. When you leave the Hopi lands, its back into Navajo country--change that watch again! If I had been diligent, I think I should have changed my watch three times yesterday, even though we traveled only 260 miles.

As I write this I am in Kayenta, Arizona, which is near the Utah border. But I'm not really sure what time it is. The sign at the hotel front desk said "Mountain Standard Time (MST)", but a lot of people say that even when they should really be saying "Mountain Daylight Time (MDT)." I think that is the case here.

Add to that, some of my electronic gizmos (like my GPS unit) are not aware that the US moved to Daylight Savings Time earlier this year, and have had to be corrected manually.

What got me onto this topic is that my watch buzzed me awake a short while ago, but the alarm clock has yet to go off...I see they are set to different times. So it's just as well that my posting dates bear no relation to the true time--I probably couldn't tell you if I tried.

Borax and the Twenty Mule Teams

2007-03-25T18:02:00.000-07:00

Of all the minerals mined in Death Valley over the years, borax produced the most profits, and became known as the White Gold of the desert. Borates are salt minerals. They were deposited in ancient lake beds that were uplifted and eroded. Water dissolved the borates and carried them to the Death Valley floor, where they recrystallized as borax. Borax is used in fiberglass, welding flux, insecticides and fungicides, corrugated cardboard, soap and detergents, and fire retardant.

In 1881 borax was found near Furnace Creek. Rights to the claim (and the nearby water, necessary for processing) were sold to William Tell Coleman, who built the Harmony borax works in 1883. Borax was mined at this site until 1888. Chinese workmen gathered the ore.

Site of the Harmony borax works in Death Valley
(N36.47977 W116.87553)
Extracting and processing the borax was a relatively straightforward operation, and the thorniest issue the mining company faced was how to get its product to market. The answer was supplied by the twenty mule team--whose image lives on in Western lore despite being in use only six years (1883-1889)--to haul the ore 165 miles to the railhead in Mojave, California. Its fame is due primarily to a successful advertising campaign which promoted 20-Mule-Team Borax Soap and a long-running radio and television program, “Death Valley Days.”

The twenty mule teams could pull loads weighing up to 36 tons, including 1,200 gallons of drinking water. The entire unit with mules was more than 100 feet long.
In 1884 a steam tractor replaced the twenty mule teams, and this in turn was replaced by the Borate and Daggett railroad. Salt marsh operations such as those at Harmony were obsolete by 1890. The underground Billie Mine, which closed in 2005, was the last borax mining operation in the Death Valley area.

Left: One of the original wagons and water tank for the twenty mule teams. Right: Steam tractor introduced in 1894 to replace the twenty mule teams. It was in turn replaced by the Borate and Daggett Railroad.

Timbisha of Tümpisa

2007-03-25T16:26:00.000-07:00

I was somewhat surprised to discover that a tribe of Indians, the Timbisha Shoshone, have lived in Death Valley for centuries, and continue to do so just a quarter-mile from Furnace Creek Ranch. Their name for Death Valley is Tümpisa, which means "rock paint".

The Mesquite tree is a focal point of Timbisha culture. The Timbisha collected fallen mesquite pods, grinding them into a sweet flour and shaping it into cakes to take with them into the mountains when the valley floor grew too hot. These cakes provided food throughout the fall and winter, supplementing a diet of of game and roasted pinenuts. The current health of the mesquite groves is not good, with 95% of the water in Furnace Creek going to support tourist activities.

Relations with outsiders have ebbed and flowed over the years. They were last uprooted from their property in 1936, and their tenure in the Park was guaranteed only recently, when Congress passed the Timbisha Homeland Act of 2000.

Left: Timbisha tribe headquarters. Right: A Timbisha adobe house, built by the CCC in the 1930s.

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Mosaic Canyon (Death Valley National Park)

2007-03-25T13:24:00.000-07:00

An easy quarter-mile hike leads to the beautiful narrows of Mosaic Canyon, which are composed of smooth, water-polished marble. The canyon drains a 4-square mile area, and could be deadly if a flash flood should occur. The walk has many twists and turns, and an added benefit is that much of it is in the shade.

N36.5684 W117.1386

Charcoal Kilns (Death Valley National Park)

2007-03-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

High up (6,875 ft. above sea level) in the piñon pine forest of the Panamint Range, about 10 miles west of Badwater Basin, you can see a collection of old charcoal kilns, designed by Swiss engineers, and built by Chinese laborers in 1879. There are 10 of them, each 25 feet high and 30 feet in diameter.

They suppled the Modock mine smelter, 30 miles to the west, which extracted silver and lead from the ore mined there. After only three years of use, the kilns closed, so that what we see are probably the best preserved charcoal kilns in the West.

Each kiln held four cords of pine wood. Burning the wood took 6-8 days, and cooling the resulting charcoal another 5 days. You can still see stumps of trees felled over a century ago to feed these kilns.

N36.24663 W117.07618

My Take on Death Valley

2007-03-25T11:16:00.000-07:00

"Hottest, driest, lowest" are words that quickly arise when describing Death Valley. But for me, it is the middle one which is most shocking. LESS THAN TWO INCHES. That's the average annual rainfall in Death Valley. Water governs everything. To survive and prosper here requires a strategy that conforms to strict parameters set by nature.
Looking down at Badwater Basin, the lowest point in North America (282 ft. below sea level)
Artists Palette

Death Valley, seven miles north of Furnace Creek
Death Valley's modern history goes hand-in-glove with borax. This is the most profitable substance ever mined here (I'll post more on that later), but the era of profitable large-scale mining ended around 1915. Then the managers at United States Borax hit upon an idea. They convinced the National Park Service that Death Valley was a unique national treasure and should be preserved. In 1933 Death Valley was designated a National Monument. This resulted in a temporary closing of lands to prospecting. But by prior agreement, within four months Congress reopened Death Valley to prospecting and mining. Meanwhile, with abundant water, shade trees, and accomodations, Furnace Creek became the heart of a growing tourism industry within the new park. And who owned Furnace Creek? United States Borax, of course.

Where we stayed: Furnace Creek Ranch
Furnace Creek Inn

Death Valley Wildflowers

2007-03-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

Panamint Daisy (Enceliopsis covillei)
The majority of this flower's range is within Death Valley.
Although mid-February to mid-April is the peak blooming period, we did not see a great amount of wildflowers in Death Valley during our two-day visit: a few, but not many. The Park Service informed us that a good wildflower year depends on at least three factors: well-spaced rainfall throughout the winter and early spring, sufficient warmth, and lack of drying winds.

Seen in Mosaic Canyon

Kelso, California

2007-03-24T20:25:00.000-07:00

Kelso's former depot

Kelso, a ghost town in the middle of the Mojave, was built to serve the railroad. The Union Pacific line from Salt Lake City to Los Angeles came through the area in 1890. Kelso (named after a railroad employee who had his name selected at random) is located near a natural spring and deposits of lead ore, factors which led to its selection as the site of a railroad depot. Built in 1924, it served the railroad until 1985. Concerned citizens saved it from demolition, and it is now a very attractive Visitor Center for the Mojave National Preserve.

Kelso’s heyday was in the 1940s, when iron ore from the nearby Vulcan mine was shipped to the west coast and made into steel for Liberty ships during World War 2.

S.S. Jeremiah O'Brien, a WW2 Liberty Ship

When the mine closed in 1948, the local economy went into a tailspin. During the 1970s Kelso was known as the town without television. About 75 residents lived in Kelso, many with school age children. Television signals could not reach the town which meant that residents found other methods of recreation. Children played outside until dark. Adults sat outside and talked together. With the advent of satellite dishes, this desert utopia did not last.

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The Mojave Road

2007-03-24T15:28:00.000-07:00

The Mojave Road southeast of Baker, California
The Mojave Road is an ancient trading trail which crosses the Mojave Desert and bisects the Mojave National Preserve from east to west. In former times it connected the villages of the Mojave Indians along the Colorado River with the tribes of the California coast. The Mojave were an agricultural people who were blessed with an abundance of crops, giving them great freedom to travel.

In 1776 a Spaniard, Friar Francisco Garces, became the first European to mingle with the Mojave and utilize their network of desert trails. The Mojave Indians guided him from the Colorado River to the mission of San Gabriel.

Garces wrote about his 1776 journey and produced this map.

Following the natural contours of the land, the Mojave Road was the preferred means of transportation through the area until the coming of the Union Pacific railroad in 1890. The road is popular today as a 4 x 4 route.

Indian petroglyphs near the Mojave Road
N35.20525 W115.87189

The Kelso Dunes

2007-03-24T14:13:00.000-07:00

The Kelso Dunes cover 45 square miles just southwest of Kelso, California, in the Mojave National Preserve (a 1.6 million-acre tract within the Mojave Desert). The dunes are about 700 feet high, and were created over a span of 25,000 years by winds carrying grains of sand from the northwest. The sand was stopped in its path by mountains to the south and east. The dunes are golden in color, contrasting with the much darker hues of the surrounding topography.

These dunes share an interesting characteristic with some 30 other dunes around the world: they make an odd booming sound (similar to that of a low-flying airplane) when sheets of sand cascade down and rub against stationary sand below. Always eager to experience some free entertainment, we hiked over a mile through the sand until we reached dunes of sufficient slope to create the odd sounds.

The going was not easy, and Mom was a real trooper. It requires some effort to trudge through soft sand, and soon our shoes and socks were full of it. The temp rose to the upper 80s in the early afternoon, and when we reached the steeper slopes the sweat started to pour. It was interesting all along the way to see fringe-toed lizards quickly dart underfoot to the safety of nearby creosote bushes.

Finally we reached a sufficient gradient to create the booming. By running down the steep slope, causing sand to tumble below, I heard what to me sounded like “Thoom Thoom Thoom”. Susan believes the sound is “Whump Whump Whump,” but no matter. The sand really does vibrate like a musical instrument!

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Mojave Desert

2007-03-24T13:16:00.000-07:00

Cinder cones between Kelso and Baker, California
I was ignorant of the fact that there are four deserts in North America. The Mojave is the smallest of these, but at over 25,000 square miles it is still the size of the state of Ohio. Most of the Mojave is in southeastern California. The land is diverse: scrub land, sand dunes, volcanic cinder cones and mountain-top forests are all found here.

Sand dunes near Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley.
Nearly 300 species of animals live here. Vegetation is sparse, but common plants include the creosote bush, Mojave yucca, Joshua tree, sage brush, juniper and pinon pine. Summer temperatures often exceed 100° F. Humans have lived in the region since the end of the Ice Age. The Southern Paiute peoples (including the Chemehuevi, Shoshone, Serrano and Kawaiisu) dominated the eastern and northeastern Mojave region, while the Mojave Indians lived along the Colorado River at the eastern edge of the desert.

The Joshua tree is a symbol of the Mojave, and is fascinating to a first-timer like me. It looks like a small tree which, instead of leaves, hosts grafted pineapples or baseball gloves at the end of its branches. Actually a species of yucca (Yucca brevifolia), the Joshua can grow up to 50 feet tall. It occurs only in this desert, and only at higher elevations, prefering flat areas or gradual inclines such as the alluvial fans which are common here. It is pollinated by only a single species of yucca moth.

In California Without California Cuisine

2007-03-24T12:01:00.000-07:00

FYI: I was without Internet for the past three days, but should have it every day now. I've got a lot to tell about from the Mojave Desert and Death Valley, and will try to get caught up soon. This posting says the 24th, but I am actually getting it on the net late night on the 26th. Thanks for your patience!!

I am sort of in the doghouse for neglecting to bring certain items in the cooler with me from Oakland, such as bagels, sun-dried tomatoes, guacamole, and humus. Susan’s packing instructions just said to take these from the refrigerator “if I wanted to make a sandwich”.

I did think about it, and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. I had a mission--getting to Las Vegas in time to pick everyone up--and I wouldn't be diverted from that mission to make sandwiches.

Well, it turns out that I misinterpreted things. I was supposed to bring these items for EVERYBODY's eating pleasure. When I met Susan and Tools again in Las Vegas (they flew there, while I drove the distance from their house in Oakland), she scolded me mildly and commented “I forgot how literally my brother takes things.”

After realizing my failure, they tried valiantly to bring some of these items from home with them on their flight to Vegas, but it's enough to say that some TSA agent in San Francisco is now enjoying a nice humus sandwich.

Where's lunch? I let them down

Primm, Nevada

2007-03-24T10:05:00.000-07:00

Once I had picked up everyone at the airport, we traded in the traffic and crowds of Vegas for more crowds in literally the middle of nowhere: Primm, Utah, home of a giant casino complex, hotel, outlet mall and amusement park, all under one management. Nothing else is there, well except for a gas station.

Primm's raison d'être is explained by the fact that it lies on Exit 1 of Interstate 15, as close as one can be to California and still gamble legally. Rising like Oz from the Mojave Desert, Primm beckons to gamblers from Los Angeles who can't wait to get started, or can't bear to quit until they finally must return home.

Our reasons for staying here were twofold: 1) being Friday, hotel prices in Vegas were astronomical, and 2) we would be 38 miles closer to the places we wanted to see on Saturday.

So, we entered the smoky city/casino/hotel called Whiskey Pete's, tramped past the slot machines with our suitcases to the elevators in the back (which we shared with a somewhat drunk patron who had been ensconced here all week), and rode up to the 16th floor for a night's sleep.

Not much need for gardeners outside my hotel window.

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This isn't the way to Vegas !!

2007-03-23T23:50:00.000-07:00

From now on, I should really take a look at the map or believe my GPS when it tells me my drive will take over seven hours instead of the four that I expect. I left Bakersfield Friday morning confident in my ability to arrive at the Las Vegas airport in time to meet my mom’s flight from Des Moines, which was scheduled to arrive at 2:35PM. The one place I had to find was Barstow, California and from there it is a straight shot on I-15 right up to Vegas. There is only one interstate highway near Bakersfield (I-5), and I assumed it would lead me right to Barstow. Uhh, not quite!

I started to take it southward, and after 30 miles or so wondered why there were no signs for Barstow…although I was seeing plenty for Los Angeles! Finally I pulled over to check the atlas, and had a sinking feeling: the actual road I wanted from Bakersfield was not this interstate at all, but a state highway that led southwest from the city.

Luckily, a detour in the form of state highway 138 presented itself shortly, and I was soon screaming eastward following south of the range of the Tehachapi mountains. I had wasted about 50 miles, and was in all probability not going to be in Vegas in time to meet my mom’s flight.

On the way I passed several interesting sights, such as Edwards Air Force Base and Mojave Airport, which appears to be a kind of jetliner junkyard, with dozens of widebody jets outside, waiting to be made into scrap.

Mojave Airport

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you: I got to Las Vegas airport two minutes ahead of Mom.

Bakersfield, California

2007-03-22T21:52:00.000-07:00

I left Oakland yesterday afternoon, on my way to Las Vegas. I traveled down the Central Valley on I-5, hugging the east side of the Coastal Range. The landscape is open and dry, with no hint of the Sierra Nevada range off to the east. Cattle grazing and a variety of orchards are the main uses to which the land is put. An impressive array of wind turbines lines the ridge near where I-580 and I-5 meet, about 25 miles southwest of the East Bay.

You can check out my general plans for this trip at Community Walk

My only stop, after four hours of driving, was Bakersfield, where I spent the night. This is a city of several hundred thousand people, about 100 miles northeast of Los Angeles. It is a clean and prosperous city, fattened by oil and ranching. I entered from the northwest and saw many residential neighborhoods surrounded by concrete walls. The homes behind the walls appeared spacious and comfortable.

After checking into my motel around 5PM, I went for a short run and then hopped into the car in search of the downtown, about five miles from the motel. Bakersfield is not a high-rise city, so without a map the downtown would be hard to find.

While clean (even the alleyways!) and not unattractive, neither is it overly impressive--but maybe I'm just hard to impress. It appears to be mostly an assemblage of government and financial buildings interspersed with small shops, such as jewelers, tobacconists and markets. There were not many people on the streets. The city obviously has a large Latino community, so I opted for a burrito at Los Altos and headed back home.